


pArTy HaRd

by The_Elister



Series: FFIV giftfics (unconnected) [1]
Category: Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy IV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fanwiki is my friend, Gen, Gift Fic, I'm not from the Fandom, Kinda, Most Of These Characters Are Just Mentioned - Freeform, Oneshot, Out of Character, POV Third Person, Please let the formatting work, Scarmiglione Centric, Scarmiglione POV, Swearing, Underage Drinking, Wordcount: 100-1.000, drunk people, fistfights, its not specified, no beta we die like men, they just needed to fit into a kitchen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22177384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Elister/pseuds/The_Elister
Summary: What do you do when you are invited to a party?a) you politely declineb) you goScarmiglione choses b) and suffers.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: FFIV giftfics (unconnected) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1597024
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	pArTy HaRd

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ImpishTricksters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpishTricksters/gifts).



> Since I'm not from the FF fandom the characters are mostlikely OOC but well.  
> Happy Birthday to my friend!!!  
> I got all the characters from here https://villains.fandom.com/wiki/Category:Final_Fantasy_Villains  
> lol.

Standing at the threshold, Scarmiglione immediately wanted to leave again.

He could hear loud voices and even louder music coming out of a room down the hallway in a deafening wave.

Geryon was grinning at him, jerking his head towards the door from where beings were spilling out of the room.

“Milon!”

“Hey, Milon, glad you could come!”

“What’s up, dude?”

“Come in, you’re the last one!”

“Our favorite drummer is here!”

Scarmiglione. Wanted. To. Leave.

Why the fuck did he agree to this?! Honestly?!

He was pulled inside and into several hugs. Ugh. He would never do this again. Never. Not even if his life depended on it.

As he was pushed down the hallway, he had a hard time maneuvering around a body lying on the floor.

“Who is that?”

“That’s Thordan.”

“Annnnnnd why is he lying there?”

“Our Archbishop arrived early to help with the preparations and he overdid it.”

“Ah.” Scarmiglione wanted to leave goddammit.

He was led – more like shoved – into the room with the loud music, Geryon’s Kitchen apparently, and to his horror he saw even more people than the escort who had welcomed him at the door.

In the kitchen, someone promptly pushed a can of beer into his hand and pushed him into a chair.

He felt as if all eyes of the assorted beings sitting at the table were on him.  
Thank all higher entities that the girls in the corner hadn’t stopped their hopping, sorry, dancing and weren’t watching him as well.

One of the beings across from him leaned formward. Exdeath. At least Scarmiglione hoped it was Exdeath, he kept confusing him with his brother Neo.  
“Come on, tell us something. What’s up, man?” Hopefully-Exdeath asked.

Scarmiglione shrugged. “Nothing much.”

This would be a long night.

…

…

…

“Say that again, I dare you!”

“You really wanna go that road? Huh? I’ll break your bones!”

A fist collided with a face.

A body crashed backwards into the table, landed in the plate with sandwiches and knocked over the punch bowl.

“Now my cloak is dirty because of you, asshole!”

“Guys, stop! Stop it!"

As Vargas and Neo kept shouting at each other and tried to shake of the people holding them back, Scarmiglione was as glad as never before that people had the habit of overlooking him.

He took a sip of his beer, and swore to himself he would never start a fight with either of them.

…

…

…

Somebody sild into the chair next to him.

“Hey, who are you?”

“Scarmiglione, but everyone calls me Milon.”

“Cool, I’m Leon.”

“Nice to meet you.”

A short silence followed. Well, it wasn’t exactly silent, the music was still blasting at full power and all the others were talking at each other, but neither Scarmiglione nor Leon said a word.

“Are you one of Geryon’s friends, too?” Awesome, Scarmiglione, you are the best small talker in town huh?

“Actually not, no. I don’t know anybody here, really, but I missed my bus and on the way to the next train station, well… I passed Geryon’s – that’s his name, right? It’s his house? – well I saw and _heard_ this party and I thought to myself: ‘Hey, why not have some fun while you’re lost’ and now I’m here.”

“Cool.”

…

…

…

A hand tugged on his and an arm was lain around his shoulders. The attack had started. Scarlet and Müllenkamp – the actual priestess, though her followers were lurking near the sink.

“Come on, you gotta dance with us!”

“At least try it! Believe us, it’s fun!”

And Scarmiglione did his best and wobbled at bit on the balls of his feet.

Physicians say time is relative. They are right. The prove: Scarmiglione lost ten years of life expectancy while only dancing for five minutes.

…

…

…

Four beings suddenly made an appearance on the ‘dancefloor’ on drag him out of there.

The relief was only short though, as they began to bombard Scarmiglione with questions.

“How the actual everloving fuck do you make your drum solo sound so good?!”

“Do you want to join our band?”

“Yeah! We are so much better than the rest of The Archfiends!”

“You wanna hang out sometime?”

“Please tell me how you get so good at drumming!”

‘The Undead’ as there were called as of late. They had gone from ‘Fiends of Chaos’ to ‘Chaos Demons’, then they had switched to ‘The Dark Crystals’ and after ‘Burning Images’ the had arrived at their most recent name. ‘The Undead’, consisting of Kraken, Lich, Tiamat and Marilith, were the actual reason behind this party, week after week convincing their bestie Geryon to let them throw the party at his house and not anywhere else.

And now they had come for him.

Lich was hanging on his arm.

At least it was Lich. Of the four of them, Lich was the one Scarmiglione most liked. Well, as much as you could like someone you met for five minutes once a week in the shift between bands in the practice room.

“You just have to tell me what your secret is! No matter what I do, it never sounds as good as you!”

“Just… hit it with all the aggression you can muster. You’ll get it.”

Lich beamed. Scarmiglione wished for a fast death.

…

…

…

They had managed to bribe him with their sweet liqueurs. Assholes.

Now, after having finished several canned beers – people kept giving him new ones – and after having downed dozens of shots of cherry liqueurs, Scarmiglione’s eyes had problems focusing anything. The logo of the beer in his hand kept becoming blurred and if he looked at something more than a meter away from him, everything suddenly doubled in numbers.

So, if he stared at Raijin’s abs across the table because they were at just the perfect distance for Scarmiglione to actually be able to _see_ something, surely nobody would judge.

…

…

…

Somebody had vomited onto his new robe.


End file.
